


I'll See You Soon

by rockysclouds



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, jean visits sasha's grave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29482164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockysclouds/pseuds/rockysclouds
Summary: Every year on the anniversary of Sasha's death, Jean visits the cemetery to clean her headstone and have a chat.
Relationships: Sasha Blouse/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	I'll See You Soon

Every day when Jean woke up, he was fine for a few seconds.

He wondered what he would have for breakfast, took note of his aching muscles and how the aching never seemed to stop, how the sun coming in through the shutters nearly blinded him. After those fleeting thoughts, he remembered kind eyes that would never open again, and his own would flood with tears.

Alone in his bed, Jean would clutch his pillow to his chest and sob as quietly as he could. His chest would ache and heave as he bit down - this was a pain he'd seen time and time again, but never felt before. How could Levi and Hange go through this year after year? Month after month? Jean was desperate to have Sasha again, to hold her close and hear her laugh.

All Jean could hear was the sound of the gunshot and Sasha's last mumblings, over and over again - and over and over again he would kick his foot into the wall and wonder why it was her and not himself who had been taken out.

But today was different. Today marked two years since Jean was forced to make his goodbye, and he'd made it a tradition to clean her headstone.

Jean sat on the edge of his bed, holding one of Sasha's jackets in his hands. Her smell had long gone, but he breathed in the jacket's scent anyway. Tears rolled down his worn face and his hands shook. He took a deep breath in, and out, "I'm not gonna cry, Sasha."

* * *

Jean sat on a bench and watched the cemetery from afar as people came and went. First to her headstone was her family. Her father stood stoic, dabbing at the tears in his eyes with a handkerchief. Below him, Kaya wailed loudly and pounded her fists into the dirt. Beside her, her mother rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her. Although they were lucky enough to spend most of Sasha's life with her, he was often saddened that during her last few years, she hadn't gotten to spend much time with her. 

Since Jean had been right by her side, maybe he was the lucky one.

Next was Connie, he sat with his back to the headstone and spoke quietly. Sometimes he would smile, or even laugh, but most times he had an empty stare into the grass before him. Soon after, the rest of the group would show up one by one. They often invited Jean to visit Sasha altogether, for her birthday, or after battle victories, and he would say yes. 

But every year, on the year, Jean needed to be alone with her.

Armin kneeled on the ground next to Connie, placing a hand on his limp shoulder. Though Jean couldn't hear, he knew they uttered reassurances and discussed fond memories. Her parents told stories of little Sasha growing up, how she hated thunder but loved the rain, how she liked her hair long but couldn't stand having her hair untied.

Every year, Sasha's mother holds each squad member closely and earnestly. She kisses their cheek, and tell them how lucky Sasha was to have such loving friends. She asks Levi and Hange if Sasha made them proud. She thanks Mikasa for being a sister to her. She holds Connie's face in her wrinkled hands and remarks how he reminds her of her daughter. She thanks Niccolo for feeding Sasha good food, and keeping her so happy. 

The training squad and Sasha's family accompany Niccolo to his chef's station for dinner. They would eat all of the wonderful foods that Sasha loved so much.  
  
Other people stopped by here and then, old women he didn't recognize and trainee squads still in uniform. Some leave flowers, others leave candles, and a few only have time to bow and offer a moment of silence on their way home.

Once Jean was sure the coast is clear, he made his way over with his cart of cleaning supplies. 

As he approached Sasha's headstone, he smiled to himself. He hadn't seen his old friend in a long time. Jean planted a kiss gently on the stone and greeted her, "Hey, potato girl." He took a moment to move all of the flowers and candles out of the way, careful not to damage them or put out the candles. "I know, I know, I'm late... I said I'd come earlier next time, but I have to respect everyone's time spent with you,"

Jean found a large coarse brush and began swirling it over the stone with soap. "Don't be mad," he pleads, "I bet you feel extra-loved today, huh? Look at all these gifts, everyone who came to see you." 

He smiled at the flowers and candles. Each item left behind held memories and relationships that were unique to them, kindling their bond with Sasha with trinkets and time. For Jean, he kept her headstone clean.

"Do you know what Nicco is cooking tonight?" The brunette scrubbed circles with his brush, finding certain spots harder to get clean than others. He remembered how Sasha loved everything Niccolo had to offer, animals native to other countries were alien to the rest of their group, but not to Sasha. He tapped his brush on the edge of the gravemarker. "I bet it's fresh-caught buttered lobster, wild rice, and all kinds of potatoes. Mashed, roasted, baked, you name it."

Jean remembered the first few times people took note of Sasha, most of them seemingly food-related. He let out a small chuckle, "Remember when you stole that potato? And ran around the training ground for hours? I thought you were crazy or something, even stupid." He shook his head as he applied more cleaning solution, "if only I knew how much I would come to love you."

He could almost feel Sasha landing a punch on his bicep, calling him crazy and stupid right back.

"Of course, now you and I both know how much I love you. And Connie, too." Jean took a step back, analyzing the backside of Sasha's headstone.

_Perfect,_ he decided, _it's spotless_.

Jean swapped his big brush out for a smaller detail brush, clearing the grime out from the grooves of her name and how long she had lived. He always made sure to take extra care during his step, he wanted her name to be legible always.

"Connie's doing good, by the way, but I've gotta tell you something that I'm sure he didn't mention. And don't laugh, okay?" Jean paused, giving her time to make up her mind. He could _definitely_ hear her agree to the promise. He hunched over, getting a better look at the task at hand. "He's aging like an old man now. That mole on his back is growing white hairs now. _White,_ Sasha! But... don't tell him I told you, either."

Jean shut his eyes, Sasha's image coming to him. Her long brown hair that shone in the sun, and her playful wide eyes, and her contagious smile and laugh. Jean missed seeing her every day, nowadays he only saw her in his dreams.

He kneeled on the ground in front of her headstone and gripped the curved edge. "You're so beautiful, Sasha. You always were..." 

Now, Jean thought about how badly he wanted to start a life with her when she was still breathing. They were already a team, and he wanted their team to last forever.

Jean's face grew hot as tears blurred his vision. His smile wavered for the first time that day, his lower lip quivering as he pressed his forearm to his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered through clenched teeth, "I know I said I wouldn't cry but I just wish you could grow old right alongside us, you deserved a long, healthy life... and the best I can do for you now is keeping you clean."

Overcome with sorrow, Jean allowed himself time to be quiet. Jean held in tears and tried his best to self regulate his breathing, but he was losing daylight and needed to finish cleaning before sundown. 

_Inhale... exhale... come on, do it for her._

Jean let out a heavy sigh, as he reached for a washcloth. He soaked it using a water canteen and rinsed all of the soap off of Sasha's headstone. It was perfectly clean, no moss or hard water or a speck of dirt seen. "There we go," he admired his handiwork, "good as new, potato girl."

He slowly returned all of Sasha's gifts to where they lay before, the scented candles and flowers. He packed up all of his cleaning equipment and wrung out the rag over the empty grass beside him. Jean let out a small huff, "I know it's getting cold, but don't worry about me, okay?"

After all was said and done, Jean had one more moment of silence and reflection. He saluted her gravestone and bent down to leave a kiss goodbye.

"I'll see you soon, Sasha. I promise."


End file.
